


hand in unlovable hand

by skittykitty



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Dark Firestar, Gen, POV Outsider, Reunions, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25625977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittykitty/pseuds/skittykitty
Summary: During their raid of Shadowclan, Firepaw disappears. And with him gone, everything goes wrong.With Tigerstar as the leader of Tigerclan, Graypaw suffers and will do anything to survive.
Relationships: Dustpelt & Graystripe, Firestar & Graystripe & Ravenpaw (Warriors)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	hand in unlovable hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArcReactorsandDragons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcReactorsandDragons/gifts).



> This has been a whole labor of love. I've had this idea stirring in my head for a whole year and finally finished it. 
> 
> Thank you [Arc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcReactorsandDragons) for betaing this and keeping me motivated!!!
> 
> The title is from the song "No Children" by The Mountain Goats.

There was a new cat in the camp. He trailed behind their Leader, ribs sticking out of his skin in his half-starved state.

The ginger tom was coated in dirt and muck, was this just another training drill for the apprentices to practice killing maneuvers? There had been one a moon or two ago… they shouldn’t need another one so soon.

There was dry blood splattered across his cheek, the stain in a position so like one after eating a fresh meal… or right after tearing out another cat's throat. 

Brokenstar turned to the ginger cat, talking quietly to him, as his torn ears twitched, likely listening to the whispers of the Clan. He soon turned towards the warriors staring at the two of them with a grin on his face, his sharp yellow teeth glittering in the sunlight.

The Leader approached his den, climbing the rocks that made up the entrance, calling for a Clan Meeting as he did so. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Clanrock for a meeting!" As he climbed his claws dug into the stone, leaving deep marks on the rock.

Their leader had scars across his body but most prominently was a long scar across his muzzle that stretched as he talked. 

Brokenstar was simply… the pinnacle of strength.

_He was better, stronger than anyone else could ever be._

“All of you have gathered here today,” he began, staring down at all the cats gathered below with glittering amber eyes, “to see a new member of the Clan become worthy of being my warrior.”

His bent tail twitched to the side as he suddenly made eye contact with the ginger tom from earlier. “Firepaw, come here.” 

Starclan, did he pick up another kittypet? Was he another cat to be used as body shields in a feud against Tigerclan? No, that couldn’t be it. Brokenstar wouldn’t look so… _happy_ if he was just another body to discard.

Maybe he had kidnapped one of Tigerclan’s apprentices? No, he seemed too starved for that.

Knowing his leader, he’d likely never know what happened, so it was better to not think of it in the first place.

The ginger’s green eyes glanced uncaringly down on to the many below him as he sat atop the leader’s rock with the dark tabby beside him. It seemed as if “Firepaw” didn’t think anyone here could hurt him.

_He would soon prove that kittypet wrong._

“I have been his mentor, therefore, I have been training him alone .” Brokenstar looked down upon the half-starved soon-to-be warrior and _grinned_. “I deem him worthy of this gift.” 

Their leader placed his muzzle atop Firepaw’s head, awaiting the ginger’s reciprocity to the movement. As Firepaw quickly licked his leader's shoulder, the two separated.

“And from this day on, you shall be known as Fireshade.” 

As the chants of “Fireshade!” echoed into the surrounding forest, Fireshade’s eyes finally gained a hint of emotion in them. 

A hint of _pride._

* * *

Fireshade had soon proven himself to his Clan-mates twice over.

He hunted as often as possible but ate very little. He didn’t sneak food to what remained of the Elders in the outskirts of their territory, and he had a healthy dislike for Tigerclan.

All was as it should be.

As Fireshade grew more acquainted with his Clan-mates, he began to make idle conversation with them.

Sadly, no one had managed to pry out where he had originated from yet, so most functioned on the assumption he was a particularly skilled Tigerclan apprentice who was taken.

* * *

Within the first moon of Fireshade being a warrior of Shadowclan, he had caused quite a stir in Brokenstar’s circle.

Clawface was the most outspoken about wanting to observe him _up close,_ while Blackfoot wanted to slowly put more pressure on him, to see if he would _snap_ under duress.

But, most interesting of all, Brokenstar wanted one of them to go on a patrol with Fireshade, to coerce him into talking about where he had come from.

_To see if he would spill his secrets._

* * *

Boulder, the calmest of Brokenstar’s circle, ended up being the one to test Fireshade.

The skinny gray tom easily kept pace with Fireshade’s quick stride as he walked through the forest. The duo did not speak for the longest time. 

Every once in awhile, one of them would spot prey and dive after it, leaving mounds of buried prey some ways back after Fireshade caught some lizards. Even when they were eating, it always seemed like Fireshade was just… _disgusted_ with the food he ate. Maybe that was why he was so skinny? He ate the bare minimum to live and took no enjoyment out of it. 

Most of the cats in Shadowclan had dark coats. Generations of using the shadows to their advantage had left Shadowclan cats with dark coats, it had been bred into them. But Fireshade could not. So, he compensated.

He was quiet and light on his feet, always hunting like he was constantly surrounded by overgrowth. He was ever aware of his body and all the ramifications of his actions.

Maybe that was why no one could get him to reveal anything?

Soon, that resolve would be tested.

* * *

As they approached the Thunderclan territory, Fireshade took notice of a rabbit that had escaped Tigerclan’s borders onto their own.

For a moment, he ducked down into a familiar crouch.

But, that was an old, outdated way of hunting, wasn’t it?

Tigerclan didn’t use stealth as much as Thunderclan did back in the day, and the parts of the former Riverclan they had taken had only reinforced their offense, so _why did Fireshade know an outdated hunting crouch?_

* * *

There was no conversation between the two, no pressuring for information, only a cold, clinical state taking in _everything._

* * *

“Was he one of the kits we took from Thunderclan back in the day?” Was the first of Boulder’s many theories. 

Brokenstar looked down at him with a calm amusement filtering over his body, allowing his limbs to be limp but his eyes to be locked onto his subject of interest.

“Not quite, try again.” Dark amber eyes traced his face, which was currently devoid of scars. 

_If he got another one wrong, there would soon be a flaw upon his face._

But that was a threat he faced at every moment, so, even now, he overcame whatever fear was left inside of him, and _thought about it._

_Fireshade appears in the camp, following Brokenstar closely._

_Quite a long time ago, his memory almost forgetting the memory, the former leader of Thunderclan had announced that the kittypet she’d made an apprentice had gone missing._

_Fireshade was avoiding all of the Thunderclan half of Tigerclan._

_Fireshade knew Thunderclan methods of hunting._

“You kidnapped an apprentice from Thunderclan, Firepaw, who was a former kittypet, and made him loyal to you.”

Blue eyes met almost feral amber ones, watching the sharp, deadly, even teeth in his maw be revealed as it opened to congratulate him.

As Brokenstar descended from his place above him, Boulder couldn’t help but internally cower away from his leader. 

The dark tabby wound his way around the lighter tom, his twisted tail curled around his own. _It always took every bit of willpower not to react._

He could feel every _breath_ on his ear, every twitch of Brokenstar’s tail, every indication of something about to go _wrong._

A light chuckle ghosted across his cheek, “You’re so afraid of me, Boulder. I wonder what it was that created this… _terror_ inside of you.”

A cold nose traced his pale fur, right under his left eye. 

_Russetfur, his only friend in this hell._

_The reason he got close, to protect her from this monster._

_Even now he would not move, for the threat of his dear friend becoming a red stain in the camp because of his mistake._

* * *

After a moon of the “testing”, Fireshade was allowed to go to a Gathering.

He was in the back of the pack of cats as they walked there, not contributing to any of the whispered conversations around him.

When they arrived, they saw Tigerclan had already arrived. Cats mulled around one another, sharing tongues as they waited for the Gathering to begin.

As Fireshade settled on the grass, he watched the two leaders and their deputies meet up by one of the four trees, staring one another down.

* * *

The Gathering would be starting soon.

Graystream had worked _so hard_ to get here. His two best friends were _dead_ because of him, and his mate had died while giving birth to his two precious kits.

But Tigerstar was a cruel leader and had _hated_ him.

Even if Silverstream had survived, she likely would have died during the Riverclan rebellion, just a few nights ago.

Now, it was just those Tigerstar trusted who came to the Gathering. After moons of hunting and whispering of the rebellion, before it _finally_ happened, Tigerstar trusted him somewhat.

Enough to let him meet with Shadowclan cats, enough to give him the chance to plot against him.

Enough for the third strike, enough so Tigerstar would finally let him reunite with his family.

_Two beautiful kits._

_His beautiful children, in a pool of blood._

_Their mother was dead but they were breathing, they were_ alive.

_“The children of a traitor will grow up to be traitors.”_

His kits were dead because of Tigerstar.

He would make the bastard _pay._

* * *

There was a Tigerclan cat talking to some of the Shadowclan cats before the Gathering began.

The grey tom prowled around the warriors, laughing and talking as if they had known each other for moons. His yellow eyes hid a sharp knowledge of just how to manipulate them to do what he needed.

_Interesting._

Fireshade stood up from where he laid on the grass, beginning to approach the cat.

With the tom’s constant vigilance of his surroundings, he was quickly noticed as he prowled closer to the grey tom. The warrior looked him up and down, staring at his ginger fur, and hyper-focusing on his green eyes for a long moment.

A barely audible whisper came out of the tom, shock overtaking his features. _“Firepaw?”_

* * *

No.

_No no no no._

_Firepaw was dead._

Graystream forced himself out of his nostalgia, seeing the same shock on the ginger’s face before it smoothed out into neutrality.

“My name is Fireshade,” the ginger tom spoke evenly, “yours?”

Of course.

Firepaw had been Thunderclan anyway, and Brokenstar was more likely to kill him than to keep a random apprentice.

A tiny voice whispered in the back of his skull, _but he was kidnapping kits, wouldn’t an apprentice be even more useful?_

_No._

_Not now._

* * *

After the basic introductions had occurred, the two split apart, Graystream exploiting those less smart in Shadowclan’s group, and Fireshade observing from a distance.

When the Gathering began, Brokenstar announced that Fireshade had become a warrior. It was only announced a _moon_ late. 

But for the two tyrannical leaders, not sharing any prudent information was the norm. For instance, Tigerstar did not share the news of the rebellion of Riverclan, didn't reveal the culling of many of the cats seen as “useless” to Tigerclan.

_(He refused to think about all those Riverclan cats he had pushed to their death, just for one Gathering.)_

* * *

In the end, the Gathering didn’t end up divulging any crucial information about Shadowclan or give Tigerstar any way he could easily tip the scales in favor of the opposition.

But, there was one positive.

Fireshade— _orange fur, bright green eyes, just like a certain foolhardy apprentice._

As the two Clans were beginning to leave, Graystream walked towards Fireshade. The gray tom sat, licking his paw, showing a cat who had no interest in the one beside him.

“Tomorrow night meet me at Fourtrees,” Graystripe murmured, knowing Firepaw had always had a keen hearing.

A hum of interest was all he was met with.

As they parted, Tigerclan’s deputy came to prowl beside him. His white pelt stood out in the darkness, amber eyes staring deep and considering into Graystream’s own matching set.

“That orange tom seemed very… familiar, wouldn’t you say?” Whitestorm, Tigerstar’s deputy, stated. When he was an apprentice he had always thought the best of Sandpaw’s mentor, but now after all he had done, no cat's paws were clean. Not even his own.

_Even Whitestorm’s apprentice wasn’t safe._

_During their final test, Graypaw was instructed to hunt one of the two other apprentices and to see if he could “take them down”. He knew what Whitestorm meant, deep down._

To become a trusted warrior, you had to kill.

Between Dustpaw, the brother of his missing best friend, and Sandpaw, of course, there was only one real choice.

_He brought Sandpaw’s corpse to camp, yowling about a badger attack._

_Tigerstar smirked at him, as he carried his prey to the center of the camp._

“He must be new to Shadowclan,” Graystream mused. “Maybe a rogue, or a kit from another Clan.” 

Whitestorm’s demeanor had massively changed since he had been appointed deputy. He had gained scars as the days passed after his appointment. As the days passed, the leader and deputy both snuck off in the midst of the night, probably to plan some raid on Shadowclan.

He had gone from a supportive mentor to a cat just like _Tigerstar._

_(The whispers of the elders spoke of two young toms who had both lost one of their parents. Who bonded, and became like siblings._

_It didn’t matter to cats until Bluestar’s death when suddenly the two opposite cats became one and the same. When their childhood bonding brought them together and wrought hell on the rest of the forest.)_

Whitestorm looked down at him, suspicion in his eyes. “Perhaps.”

The two walked silently back to camp, both wondering what the other was plotting.

* * *

When they returned to camp, Brokenstar returned to his den, planning to retire for the night.

When their fearsome leader was about to fall asleep, the ginger tom asked for entrance to his den. With a sigh, Brokenstar allowed him to enter.

He lifted himself from the moss coating the rough floor. Brokenstar began to approach his fickle warrior. “You haven’t come here often, little shade. Has there been nothing to report, or have you simply lost the will to be _loyal?”_

A tired Brokenstar always would rather string along people than get real information, sadly for Fireshade. As the warrior searched for the words to illustrate what he wished to say, Brokenstar unsheathed his claws.

_“Hurry up, you know how I don’t like to be toyed with, little Firepaw.”_

Fireshade dug his claws into the dirt at the comment, trying hard to keep his composure. “A Tigerclan warrior, Graystream, seemed to recognize me.” Rushed out of his mouth, little thought going to the words. “He asked to meet me at Fourtrees tomorrow night.”

Brokenstar’s eyes lit up in interest. “Oh? A _Tigerclan cat?_ How interesting.” The threat of Brokenstar’s claws was tucked away, with his happiness over the news. “Perhaps you should ask him about the distinct _lack_ of Riverclan cats in their midst, or about why he was chosen to go.” His torn ear twitched as he focused on all that could be discovered. “Tigerstar would never allow someone he did not trust in the Gathering. That or… it is a test.”

A grin overtook Brokenstar’s face, making the scars across his face make his muzzle look cracked. “You said he recognized you?” Not waiting for a response, he continued to speak. “Play with him, he will likely trust you for your past self’s trustworthiness. If he does anything that could compromise you, whether emotionally or mortally, kill him.”

Sensing that his leader was done speaking for the night, Fireshade lowered his head and padded out of the den.

* * *

The day passed quickly, and it was soon time to go back to Fourtrees. 

Tigerstar hadn’t given him any “special” attention thankfully, so Greystream had the comfort of knowing that at least their leader wouldn’t be watching for him to sneak out. But Whitestorm was always a different story, as he often patrolled the camp during the night watching for intruders.

This night, unfortunately, was one where Whitestorm wasn’t guarding the _outside_ of camp, but stood in the center of camp, watching all the cats inside their dens. Normally, it would be near impossible to get past him, so he rarely tried it. 

But he had planned this, so he slept nearest to the back of the den so he would be hard to spot missing, and collected the moss of the now-dead Riverclan cats who had slept in the same den as him. Once all the other cats in the den were asleep, he began to stack up the moss around where he slept, making sure Whitestorm was turned around while he did it. 

Once he was sure it imitated his shape, he nudged his confidante to wake him up. 

_Dustpaw returned to camp, happy with his pile of prey and praise from his mentor, one of Tigerstar’s inner circle, Darkstripe._

_As he was thriving in his happiness, it was shattered by the image of one of his fellow apprentices, one of his friends even, bloodied in the middle of the camp. With the only one who could have done it, Graypaw, standing being_ praised _by cats._

 _Tigerstar looked down encouragingly towards his friend’s apprentice._ Do it, _he silently conveyed._

_Dustpaw lunged towards Graypaw, whose muzzle was covered in his best friend’s blood, with killing intent._

“Duststorm?” He whispered, trying to not wake up any cat beside the dark tom. “It’s time to wake up.”

_After their fight, wherein both of them had gotten a few good wounds on one another, they were separated by other Clan members._

_“You killed her!” Dustpaw yowled, righteous anger allowing him to escape the confines of his Clan-mates holding him back. As he stood between his Clan-mates and Graypaw, with a slow stream of blood trickling down his muzzle he had a realization._

_No one cared if Graypaw had killed her, they only cared_ that he made a fuss about it.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, picking himself up out of the half-sleep he had managed to get. Soon they were both in the back of the den, avoiding Whitestorm’s gaze.

“You remember the plan?” Graystream asked one final time. 

Duststorm scoffed, “Of course, mouse-brain.”

_The two still had blood under their claws when they were made warriors._

_Tigerstar looked more than satisfied at Dustpaw’s supposed performance. He prayed his leader hadn’t noticed how real his emotions on the matter had been. In this new version of Thunderclan, better known now as Tigerclan, he was one of the apprentices who was expected to take his place in Tigerstar’s inner circle._

_He had made whatever mark he could’ve already, so what was the point of showing off now?_

The two snuck through a hole they had been digging through the bracket lining of the den. The plants were easily pliable, but they had to work to keep the illusion of a tall barrier. 

The duo escaped the warrior's den, but they encountered a new challenge. To escape the enclosing bramble, either they could circle around and sneak out through the Dirtplace, or climb the walls of the camp.

Of course, it would not be easy either way, but they decided to take the easier route. By climbing out of the camp.

_“We have gathered here today to witness two apprentices who have proven themselves worthy of being in our midst.” Tigerstar stared down at the body of his deputy’s apprentice. “One has failed this test, and has died for it.”_

_Graypaw’s claws flexed beside him, as he stared up at his leader with fury in his eyes._

_“Dustpaw, as the apprentice of Darkstripe, do you believe you have proven yourself as a warrior of Thunderclan?” This… this was new. He had never heard another apprentice questioned like this, but maybe it was just something Tigerstar would implement with Tigerclan?_

_But, no. He needed to focus. He had only been hunting prey, while Graypaw had been hunting his_ friend. _But that didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was knowing the_ truth.

_“I am worthy of being a warrior, Tigerstar.”_

_“You’re lying to me, Dustpaw.” His leader stared down at him from on top of Highrock, his amber eyes digging into him like claws in his fur. “You don’t truly believe you’ve proven yourself, have you?”_

_Tigerstar tilted his head curiously, “Dustpaw, do you wish to die an apprentice or live a warrior?” There was only one real answer. He had to answer the correct way or else—_

_Or else—_

_“Too late.”_

_Tigerstar slowly lumbered down the rock, staring at him intently the whole time. When he finally made his way to Dustpaw, he was quaking in fear. He suddenly understood why his brother had always been so terrified of his mentor, why he always ran from attention. With all of his focus purely on_ you, _it made you feel—powerless._

_His leader lifted a paw, showing Dustpaw his large claws moments before he lashed out at the flinching apprentice, leaving gashes just hairs under his right eye._

_“Next time you disappoint me, you’ll lose that eye, Dustpaw.” As quickly as the event had begun, it had ended, Tigerstar turned around and began the apprentice ceremony in truth, not permitting the medicine cat to help his wound afterward._

With Duststorm’s darker pelt, the two had decided that he would go second- less likely to be seen if Graystream made a ruckus while he climbed up. So, Duststorm waited on the ground as Graystream climbed as quickly as he could. 

Thankfully, Graystream managed to make it up the wall with limited problems.

_After Graystream was awarded his warrior name for his “bravery” and “resistance”, and as a reminder of how “strong” he was for surviving his mate and kit’s deaths, Dustpaw was called upon._

_The wound under his eye was still bleeding, as it left a path of what seemed like red tears upon his fur. A trail of his misery, of the moment he realized the world wasn’t_ fair. 

_“Dustpaw, I hope you have learned your lesson. As a warrior, you won’t get away with a simple scratch upon your muzzle. You will die,” Tigerstar scorned, staring into his soul. “But, one apprentice has already died today. We cannot lose another.”_

_“Darkstripe.” He shifted his dark stare to his mentor. “Has Dustpaw been a good apprentice, has he proven his loyalty to the Clan?”_

_Darkstripe shuffled from behind him, anxious under the scrutiny of his leader, but also his_ friend. _“He has been a good apprentice, Tigerstar. He has proven his loyalty many times over.”_

 _Tigerstar held his gaze for a moment longer, before scoffing. “So he is loyal, and has proven himself,” in his eyes, Dustpaw knew the truth._ I do not believe that, _his eyes said._ I will never trust this traitor. 

_“As a memorial for our fallen apprentice, you will be named after her. Were she to become a warrior her name was going to be Sandstorm.” Tigerstar’s piercing eyes dared him to disagree with his naming. “From now on, you will be known as Duststorm.”_

_“Graystream! Duststorm! Graystream! Duststorm! Graystream! Duststorm!”_

Duststorm began to climb up the side of the wall, before having a wonderfully terrible idea. 

Graystream would be able to easily get in and out if there was a good distraction. Duststorm’s paw began to slip about halfway up the wall. He knew falling from here would hurt. _Badly._ But it would get Graystream out of this hell.

So, he let go, falling with a yowl that woke the camp.

* * *

Fireshade waited at Fourtrees, grooming his fur as the night passed.

He had suspicions about what his old friend would bring up. Maybe about how he had been so… _loyal_ to Thunderclan once, but he already had a defense against most of the points he thought Graystream could come up with.

He would be an ever-shifting river to Graystream’s easily malleable rock. Brokenstar had shattered him and molded him into a perfect weapon, and now was the perfect time to prove he _wasn’t_ useless to his leader.

When his old friend arrived they avoided asking questions of true importance, as Graystream awkwardly fumbled with asking him how he had ended up in Shadowclan. It was entertaining at first but soon grew to become aggravating.

Fireshade looked down at his paws. They were perfectly clean, minus some mud that was in his fur to make him harder to spot. 

_(Some voice deep inside of him wondered why all the blood on his paws was able to be washed off. It should stay under his claws like a persistent tick, but for somehow he was able to grin and bear it against the knowledge that he had killed another cat.)_

Green eyes, much more _haunted_ than they had been when he was an apprentice with his best friends, slowly moved from his pristine paws to Graystream. The tomcat staring at him with some degree of desperation muddying his amber eyes. It was his final cry for a helping hand.

“Graystream,” Fireshade began, beginning to get up. He halted before continuing, stretching out his legs slowly, the bones popping one by one until he settled down again. His ears flicked towards the object of his attention, “My name is Fireshade,” he paused, deciding the right choice of action. “But… I used to be a Thunderclan apprentice named Firepaw.”

Graystream’s body tensed up even further at the confession. “I used to be your friend,” Fireshade finished. Desperate amber eyes begged him to not end it at that, but Fireshade looked away from the tom with little remorse.

It was hard to feel much of anything these days.

Back when he was an apprentice everything was so simple. Tigerclaw was evil, his friends were the best, Sandpaw and Dustpaw were the worst, and he couldn’t get in real danger.

Now, he had scars and couldn’t so much as risk unsheathing his claws around the wrong cat. 

He had missed Graystream.

“Are… are we still friends?” Graystream cautiously asked, his claws partially unsheathed in his anxiousness. The tom obviously thought he was under constant, unyielding stress, but judging by this display? He would never understand true peril.

Fireshade smiled, tilting his muzzle upwards. “Of course we’re friends, Graystream,” he lied.

* * *

They continued to talk as the night grew dark, chills settling into their fur, as Graystream settled into the pure sense of love and happiness he had once felt around his friends. Of course he didn’t… _love_ Fireshade like he had loved Silverstream. 

His love for his friends and his love for her were very different things. 

_(His love for all of his dead family choked him when he went to sleep. There were no nightmares for him, only visions of his family and friends waiting for him in Starclan._

_Why did that hurt infinitely more than any nightmare could have?)_

Fireshade and Ravenpaw both held a special place in his heart. He had been the first one to get to meet Fireshade— not Bluestar, not _Whitestorm—_ him. He was his first friend in the Clan, and he took obvious pleasure in that. 

The tom and Ravenpaw hadn’t been nearly as close, but after Fireshade’s disappearance, they had become closer than previously. After too much time had passed, they realized they had only really been friends with Fireshade and not with one another, and they drifted apart.

He hadn’t noticed at first when Ravenpaw had disappeared.

It had taken an announcement by Tigerstar (at the time Tigerclaw) about his apprentice running away from the Clan, and if he was spotted to bring him back. Obviously, Graystream hadn’t believed a word out of his mouth.

He had tried to ask around about what had happened when he was too focused on himself _(and Silverstream— and the death of his kits)_ but everyone who may have had some morsel of information didn’t want to tell him because of his act of being a loyal apprentice.

He was _still_ in the dark as to what had happened to his other friend.

Had Tigerstar killed him? Or had he just— given up? Had his best friend given up on being able to thrive in his Clan and just become a rogue?

The questions had plagued him for so long— he didn’t care about getting an answer anymore.

_(That was a lie. He would do anything to see Ravenpaw again.)_

But Fireshade had managed to return to him, even if he was now Shadowclan and not as… happy? The ginger tom was less open about his emotions than he had once been. 

But it wasn’t just him, everyone had changed though.

Duststorm had stopped antagonizing him after Fireshade’s disappearance and they even became friends after becoming warriors. _(Of course, Duststorm had never forgiven him for killing Sandpaw, but they let bygones be bygones.)_

Whitestorm had changed from an open and friendly warrior to a terrifying deputy, he and Tigerstar had dominated in battles and became a terrifying duo to go against in a fight. 

Graystream had been… open and innocent before that fight with Shadowclan. He had had friends in his corner who would support him through his decisions— and then he _didn’t._

Firepaw was gone, and suddenly everything was crashing down around him.

_But maybe now that Fireshade had come back, they could fix everything!_

“Did you hear about what happened to Ravenpaw after you disappeared?”

* * *

Duststorm was punished in front of the whole Clan.

Tigerstar’s inner circle stood in front of him, with all of his Clan staring at him with disgust in their eyes. _“You could’ve at least escaped without waking us all up,”_ he could feel they were all thinking.

No one in the Clan had ever really held any appreciation or interest in him, especially not after his leader had shamed him in front of everyone at his apprentice ceremony. After this, his own Clan would probably kill him if Tigerstar didn't.

“So, Duststorm,” Tigerstar began, slowly walking towards him. “During your warrior ceremony I gave you a promise,” the scar under his eye prickled uneasily. He had known this would happen someday but had hoped he’d at least get to see someone make real progress at taking down Tigerstar.

“I said that the next time you disappointed me, you would lose an eye, didn't I?”

His former mentor, Darkstripe, stepped forward with a look of satirical disappointment in his eye. “Duststorm, I mentored you, and yet you’re still such a disappointment to the Clan.” Having heard similar diatribes against him in private a hundred times over, that had little effect against him.

But the crowd around him grew angrier— they just wanted to see him in real _pain._ And if their leader didn’t grant it, they would have to hurt him themselves.

It would likely be a terrible end, full of so much pain.

“Yes, I am,” he taunted, hoping they would just kill him for his insolence. “I’m a disappointment and never deserved to be your apprentice, Darkstripe. Now, can you just kill me and get this over with?”

Darkstripe started to move towards him but was cut off by Tigerstar. “No, Darkstripe. I must keep my word. Longtail.” he called out. 

Longtail had never done anything against him, he had always seemed the nicest of Tigerstar’s inner circle. But no one was innocent in this new world that Tigerstar led. Simply by being close to Tigerstar, Longtail most definitely had done terrible things.

The tom came forward with a glint in his eyes, and stood beside his leader, looking down at him. He refused to be scared in his last moments and stared into the other’s blue eyes with determination surging through him.

With little pause, Longtail lunged at him. But he wasn’t aiming at his throat— but his _eyes._

The first swipe was over in a moment. Blood was pouring from his left eye. He was closer to the ground than he had been before, gasping for air through the pain.

“Hold still.” He heard Longtail command, and as he looked up the last thing he saw was of Longtail, the nicest member of Tigerstar’s inner circle with blood on his claws. And of his own leader smirking down at him.

After that— everything went dark.

But, he still felt the pain of his two bleeding wounds. He still heard the whispers, about him, about his actions, about his wounds. 

And he still heard Tigerstar command him to be out of Tigerclan territory by sundown.

* * *

The two of them ended up making plans to go to the Moonstone on an adventure like the old days.

Fireshade obviously also wanted to reunite with his old friend, so they would consult Starclan on if he was dead or not.

It sounded like a smart plan.

Fireshade had suggested that they go right that second, and remembering how Duststorm had made it so he could escape, he agreed easily.

They traveled for some time, easily joking about the time Bluestar had brought them there. Of course, neither of them brought up the attack they had gone through afterward. 

But they did think of that old cat who had lived at the barn.

As a tribute to their memory of the event, they decided to stop there for a visit.

It was a happenstance that led them to a very familiar dark-furred tom.

* * *

“Ravenpaw!” Graystream cried out upon seeing his best friend. 

Fireshade had missed both of them dearly, and seeing them had reignited something inside of him. Just today alone he had managed to do so much he hadn’t been able to do for moons. Smile, laugh, joke about the past. 

It was amazing.

 _Graystream_ was amazing.

He spent too long staying away from the two of them and wound up being drawn into conversation with his old friends. They smiled, they laughed, and they spent the night side by side simply enjoying one another’s company.

He allowed himself one day of happiness.

In the morning he would have to shatter the illusion.

But for now, he curled up around his friends and drifted to sleep.

* * *

In the morning, Fireshade was the last to wake up. It was odd since in Shadowclan he always had to wake up early to keep on guard for himself.

Ravenpaw and Graystream smiled and greeted him when they noticed his awakening. Knowing what he would have to do later in the day, he could barely muster up a smile.

They noticed almost instantly.

“What’s wrong?” Ravenpaw asked. He hadn’t really changed, had he? He seemed more confident, but he still _cared_ and that was more than he had expected of anyone since he had left Thunderclan.

“Oh, just remembering that I’ll have to return back to the camp soon,” he gave as an excuse. It _was_ technically part of the problem. 

Ravenpaw gave his sympathy and the three of them continued to talk for the morning. Barley had woken up at some point and given his good mornings to them.

The two of them left at sun-high.

Only one of them returned home.

* * *

Brokenstar had only given him one command.

_If he compromises you, kill him._

And well, Brokenstar had wanted him to be that empty unfeeling cat he was without Graystream. His leader would want to know about one of Tigerclan’s runaway warriors.

_(Brokenstar would probably just kill Ravenpaw, or trade him to Tigerclan for something inconsequential just to hurt him.)_

He _did_ regret what he would have to do, truly.

Fireshade could do nothing, but then Brokenstar would get angry— because he _would_ find out— and just do it himself.

They didn’t talk much on their way back to their Clans.

When they passed the border into what was once Windclan’s territory, Fireshade stopped.

“Huh?” Graystream turned around, his questioning gaze looking into his own. “Why are you stopping?”

He sighed, keeping eye contact with the other Warrior, whose amber eyes were wide with innocent confusion. “I’m sorry, Graystream. I really am.”

He lunged forwards, his jaw opening and slamming shut around his best friend’s neck, teeth tearing ragged holes into his throat. Graystream struggled for a few short moments, his claws scraping at his orange underbelly but doing little damage. 

Fireshade stepped back, looking at his friend’s broken body. His neck was bleeding profusely across the grass, his dull eyes staring at where he had once stood on top of him.

He even regretted it, a little. 

He would probably miss how much joy Graystream had brought out of him.

But for now, he began the weary process of dragging the body to the gorge nearby, watching the limp body crash a float away, to wash up on the distant shore.

* * *

Starclan was in disarray.

Their previous metrics for whether someone should go to the Dark Forest or not was in shambles.

So many cats had killed others in their own Clans, or done even worse crimes that sooner or later _all_ the currently alive _Clan cats_ would be sent to the Dark Forest. 

But Graystream was the worst of them.

He fully believed he was in the right, and that influenced how many looked at his actions.

For instance, his mate.

“He did everything to _survive!”_ Silverstream defended him. Near her, her kits were playing in the grass happy beyond anything they could have experienced in life.

But all the rest of what had once been Riverclan disagreed with her. “No!” Leopardstar cried out above the cries of all the other Riverclan cats who were killed by Tigerstar and his ilk. “He manipulated us into revolting, _knowing_ we would die, _just so he could go to a gathering.”_

No one had anything to say against that, everyone knew Graystream had massively messed up at the time. It was almost guaranteed he would go to the Dark Forest.

An apprentice from Tigerclan spoke up. 

“He… we were going to become warriors. And he _hunted me for sport.”_ Sandpaw spat, anger in her voice.

No one cared that he had been betrayed by his best friend.

No one _cared_ that he had just rediscovered all of his childhood friends and reunited with them.

* * *

Graystream woke up in an endless forest.

His neck slowly bled, leaving a trail in the leaves.

For so long, he looked for his mate, for his _kits._

When he realized that _this wasn’t Starclan,_ he was devastated.

But with deep-seated anger inside of him, he decided to wait until Fireshade died and came here, to get his revenge.

_Fireshade had given everything to him and then taken it away in a single day._

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on my [tumblr](https://skitter-kitteruwu.tumblr.com/) where you can pester me to finish half-thought out ideas and scream to me about fics!!


End file.
